


Snapshots of Time IX

by hummerhouse



Series: Snapshots of Time [9]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Language, Multi, Turtlecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3629598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummerhouse/pseuds/hummerhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.<br/>Word Count: 3,280 OT4 TCest Drabble sets<br/>Rated: PG-13<br/>Momentary glimpses of life, captured and placed into an album.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots of Time IX

** Wranglers **

            “Go that way!  That way!” Raph shouted, waving his arm frantically.

            Leo spun on his heel and leaped for their target, who darted beneath his grasp with only inches to spare.

            “He’s coming back towards you!  Cut him off!” Leo yelled, rolling out of his free fall.

            Raph skid to a stop, changing directions as fast as he could, but he wasn’t quick enough.  The tips of Raph’s fingers just raked across Mikey’s carapace as his brother attempted to double back on the pursuing pair.

            Only Leo’s speed kept the youngest from making it to the sewer entrance.  “You’re not getting away that easily!” Leo called out, blocking Mikey’s path and forcing his brother into a slide as he attempted to stay out of Leo’s reach.

            A blur of red appeared on Mikey’s left and an equally determined flash of blue approached from the right.  With impeccable timing, Mikey crouched and then sprang backwards out of his brother’s clutches as they simultaneously dove for him.

            “After him!” Raph growled loudly, gritting his teeth as he barely avoided colliding with Leo.  “He’s laughing at us.”

            “Flank him,” Leo said, pointing to the opposite side of the lair.  “Box him in.”

            As the pair spread out, keeping their eye on the moving sea green form, Master Splinter stepped out of his room.  He had thought to brew himself a pot of tea, but instead stopped short as he surveyed his home.

            Michelangelo was dancing around the lair, laughing and dodging Leonardo and Raphael, who were obviously stalking him.  Whatever mischief the youngest had managed to accomplish, it was apparently severe if he had gotten those two to work together.

            Master Splinter noted that Donatello’s door was closed, indicating that the purple banded brother wanted nothing to do with the current situation.  Glancing once more towards the other three, Master Splinter noted the coil of rope in Raphael’s hands.

            Without a word, Master Splinter stepped back into his room and closed the door.  He had learned that there were some things he preferred not to know.

            In a low crouch, Leo paced his youngest brother, matching him move for move and denying him access to an exit.  While Leo held Mikey’s attention, Raph formed a wide loop on one end of the rope he was holding, tying it off with a honda knot.

            “You got this, Raph?” Leo asked, never taking his eyes off Mikey.

            “Just like we talked about,” Raph responded, the rope now hidden behind his carapace.

            Mikey’s eyes flicked from one to the other.  His little prank was only supposed to get Raph, but Leo had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and both brothers had become victims.

            Self-preservation dictated that you never do anything that would give Leo and Raph a reason to work together.  Against either separately, Mikey knew he had a fighting chance.  But this particular pair, when properly motivated, formed a combination best escaped from.

            Unfortunately, they had boxed Mikey in before he could get out of the lair.  His only hope was to keep moving, jumping and dodging away from them until one of them slipped up and left an exit free.  Then Mikey would do the most prudent thing possible; hide in the tunnels for a couple of days.

            Mikey wasn’t sure what those two were talking about, he only knew that Raph had started coming around behind him.  With Leo to his front and slightly right, Mikey saw they’d made a grave mistake in leaving a path open to the elevator.

            Leo darted forward, his move quick and precise like a snake strike.  From the corner of his eye, Mikey saw Raph begin to lunge at him as well, and Mikey took off in a streak.

            Raph pulled up short, spinning on his heel as he shook out the rope and began twirling it overhead.  Mikey’s straight beeline for the elevator made him a perfect target as Raph flipped his wrist, sending the loop on an unerring trajectory towards his younger brother.

            With the precision only achieved by someone who has spent his entire life perfecting a throwing weapon, Raph dropped the loop over Mikey’s head and shoulders.  Yanking back as hard as he could, Raph pulled Mikey off his feet.

            Mikey flew backwards with a surprised grunt and hit the ground with a thud.  Before he had the chance to wrestle the rope off of himself, Leo was kneeling next to him, his hands moving fast to wrap the excess length of rope around the prankster.

            Suddenly Raph was there as well, grabbing Mikey’s carapace and flipping the youngest onto his belly.  Arms pinned to his sides, Mikey tried to wriggle out of their grasp, but then Leo grabbed his legs and pulled them back.

            Mikey attempted to kick out of Leo’s hold, but Raph was already spinning a couple of loops of the rope around Mikey’s ankles.  Leo grabbed the dangling end and efficiently tied it to the rope around Mikey’s carapace, leaving Mikey’s lower legs bent over his ass.

            Grinning widely at their now hog tied brother, Raph and Leo bumped fists over Mikey’s prone form.

            “Ow, ow, ow!” Mikey yelped as he squirmed on the floor.  “This is uncomfortable!  Come on guys, let me go.  You win.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry; I’ll never prank you again.”

            Raph looked over at Leo.  “Didn’t he say that exact same thing a week ago?”

            “Yep,” Leo answered.  “Wasn’t that when he put the rubber snake above the lab door and made Donny drop a dozen of his new test beakers?”

            “I promised I wouldn’t prank Don again,” Mikey said.  “Now I promise I won’t prank you guys anymore.  Please, please let me go now, I can’t feel my legs!”

            “Three weeks ago he promised never to prank you again after that whole water bed fiasco,” Leo reminded Raph.

            “Ya’ know what?  I believe you’re right, Leo.  His promises just ain’t no good,” Raph said.

            “I’m an addict bro’,” Mikey quickly explained.  “I have to like, taper off.”

            “This isn’t much punishment for his prank today or for making us chase him all over the lair,” Leo said.

            “You weren’t supposed to be anywhere around, Leo,” Mikey whined.  “I had it all worked out, see Raph was gonna . . . .mphh!”

            Raph had yanked Mikey’s mask off his head while Mikey was talking and was now tying it firmly around his youngest brother’s mouth.

            “I got a much better use for his mouth,” Raph said, grinning lecherously at Leo.  “We just need ta go somewhere more private before I remove this gag.”

            Leo’s eyes twinkled.  “The garage?  I think Don left the spreader bar up there.”

            “Mm . . . uhh, uhhh” Mikey groaned, protesting as his brothers lifted him from the floor.

            “Ya’ owe us bro’,” Raph husked lowly, then told Leo, “The garage it is.”

            As the doors closed them into the elevator, Mikey couldn’t help a churr of anticipation.  Sometimes the line between punishment and pleasure got slightly blurred by his brothers, which was okay by him.

            It was one of the reasons why Mikey wasn’t ever going to stop pranking them.

****

** Temptation **

            “Nope, there’s no way you can keep from doing it,” Mikey argued, crossing his arms over his plastron.  “That’s pure psychology, dude.”

            “It’s simply a matter of control, just like anything else,” Leo insisted.

            “No one has that kind of control,” Mikey said with a grin.

            “Of course they do,” Leo said, slightly exasperated.  “Concentration and focus are key components of our training.  We teach ourselves to master impulses.”

            “So you’re saying that under no set of circumstances or situations could you be pulled into giving in to an impulse?” Mikey asked.

            “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Leo told him.  “That wouldn’t even be a rational statement.  What I am saying is that when you are in a situation where you have to focus, your training should give you the ability to do so.”

            “Oh,” Mikey said.  “And ‘cause you train like, way more than any of us, if you were faced with a challenge that tested your control, you wouldn’t have any problem beating it.”

            “Certainly not any challenge you could come up with,” Leo said smugly.

            “Re~ally,” Mikey drawled.  “Let’s stick to the one we were talking about to start with.  I’ll bet you twenty bucks you crack inside of twenty minutes.  Buck a minute.”

            “Mikey . . . .” Leo began.

            “Hey, it should be an easy win for you, control master,” Mikey taunted.  “You starting to have second thoughts about all that bragging?”

            “I don’t brag,” Leo said haughtily.  “I work hard on my focus; I understand that it’s an important part of our survival.”

            “And understanding that sometimes even you have limitations is important too,” Mikey countered.  “Of course you’ll never know if you don’t put your assertions to the test.”

            “This isn’t what I’d call much of a test,” Leo said.

            “Start small dude,” Mikey said with a grin.  “So are we on?  An extra twenty bucks will get me the latest Spiderman anthology.”

            Leo’s eyes narrowed.  “I could use some more Japanese clove oil for my swords.  You have a deal.  What are the parameters?”

            “No touching, no chasing the test subject off, don’t give him a clue about what’s going on, and admit when you lose,” Mikey said.

            “You’ll trust me?” Leo said, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

            “Yeah, Leo, I trust you,” Mikey told him.  “See, I know your psychology pretty well, too.”

            “And I know yours,” Leo said as they walked towards the dojo.  “You can’t do any of those things either and you can’t do anything that would alter his routine.”

            “Deal.”  Mikey stepped into the dojo and looked over to where Raph was rope jumping.  “It looks like we got here right on time.”

            Raph glanced at them, sweat dripping from his skin, and then ignored his brothers.

            “Same routine every day,” Leo murmured, turning so that he was facing Mikey, positioning them so their sides were to Raph.

            “Don’t wanna be obvious we’re staring, right Leo?” Mikey smirked.  “He’s all done with the bag; couple more minutes and he’ll be finished with his rope work.  You know what comes next.”

            “Weight bench,” Leo said.  Just the words made his voice drop an octave and he cleared his throat to cover the slip.

            Mikey’s smirk grew to a grin.  “Wow, now I know why you’re always conveniently in here when he needs a spotter.”

            “If I didn’t do it, no one would,” Leo said in an attempt to offer a defense.  “Someday he’ll hurt himself.”

            “Never has,” Mikey said, watching as Raph ran a dry towel across his face, arms, and hands.

            They both quieted for a moment as they furtively eyed their brother, who was lying on the weight bench and lifting the forty pound bar in order to warm his muscles.

            Mikey glanced over at Leo’s eyes, noticing that his oldest brother was very carefully watching Raph’s arms.  The first qualm hit him that Leo might be able to focus enough to slide past the twenty minute mark.

            Quickly running the rules of their bet through his mind, Mikey realized that he hadn’t been left with many options for tilting the advantage in his direction.  There was however, one thing he could still do that hadn’t been made taboo.  It was the one thing that Mikey did better than any of them.

            Michelangelo could talk.

            When Raph got up to add some weight to the bar, Mikey said, “I don’t know what it is about him when he’s in here working out.  I used to think it was his dark green skin and the way it looks with sweat covering it.  Then I used to think it was his scent; it’s stronger when he’s exercising and kinda, I don’t know, _better_.”

            Raph lay flat on the bench; legs spread to aid his balance, and began to lift again.  He was still carefully ignoring his brothers; when Raph was going through his routine nothing short of an invasion could interrupt him.

            Leo didn’t flinch; his eyes remained on the weights that Raph was using.  Almost ten minutes had passed and Leo was showing no signs of giving in.  Mikey had to take it up a notch.

            “You know, Leo, you’re wrong that no one else will spot him,” Mikey said, his voice smooth as silk.  “I do it sometimes when you aren’t around.”

            “That’s good, Mikey,” Leo said, sounding just a little distracted.

            Mikey narrowed his eyes.  He’d just seen a crack in the famous focus shield.  Raph was up and placing more weight on the bar, moving into the range that tested his strength.

            “He thinks he’s invincible,” Mikey said.  “He’ll keep adding weight until he goes past his limit.  Gotta admit though, most of the time I spot him ‘cause I love to watch his muscles move under his skin.  The way his veins pop up when he’s straining remind of the ones on his . . . .”

            “Mike,” Leo interrupted, his voice hoarse.  He crossed his arms over his plastron, but his eyes never left the weight bar.

            Mikey chuckled.  “Sorry, I got carried away.”

            They watched Raph in silence for another couple of minutes.  The clock had crawled past the fifteen minute mark and Mikey was running out of time.

            As Raph lay prone and began to lift an even heavier set of weights, Mikey searched his head for just the right words.  He finally settled on his last ditch effort.

            “I’m always surprised at how much energy he has after a hard workout,” Mikey said, purposely dropping his voice an octave.  “It must be an adrenaline thing.  It’s the same way he is after a fight.  When he gets done with those weights, he practically pounces on me right here in the dojo.”

            That did the trick.  Leo’s eyes darted to a spot between Raph’s legs, his pupils dilating as they rested on it.

            Mikey chortled loudly and Leo started blinking, pulling his eyes back to his little brother.  A flush suffused his neck as he watched Mikey laugh.  The sound of the weights dropping into the rack drew their attention and Mikey stopped laughing when he saw the stern expression on Raph’s face.

            Shaking his head, Raph went back to his work out.  With their eyes locked on Raph’s glistening body, Mikey lifted his hand and Leo slid a twenty into it.

****

** The Personal Touch **

            “Thanks April, I’m really looking forward to trying this out,” Don said as he accepted a package from his friend.

            “Haven’t you ever had a back brush?” April asked.  “I’d think with your shells that a back brush would be a necessary bathing implement.”

            “Most of our shopping is done at the junkyard or while we’re in disguise at the corner bodega,” Don said.  “Neither of those places carries back brushes.  We kind of make do with sponges tied to sticks or we’ll ask each other for help with the hard to reach spots.  It’ll be nice to get a really deep clean with these longer bristles.”

            “It’s funny how I used to take such little things for granted,” April said as Don headed out through her window.  “You guys have made me see a lot of what I have with a whole new appreciation.  Let me know how it works out for you.”

            “I will.  See you later, April,” Don called as he bounded up the fire escape.

            Leaping across rooftops, Don found he was anticipating shower time a lot more than he ever had.  Along with the bath brush, April had gotten him a few different bottles of body wash to try out.  Since he’d only ever used soap, the thrill of trying something new added a spring to his step, and the fact that he had a selection to experiment with made it that much more exciting.

            Back at the lair, Don looked around but didn’t see any of his brothers.  Master Splinter was seated in his favorite chair, engrossed in one of the prime time dramas he’d come to enjoy. 

            Don waited until a commercial broke in and said, “Hi sensei.  Where is everyone?”

            Master Splinter turned his head and glanced at the clock.  “Your brothers left for a patrol thirty minutes ago.  They decided not to wait on your return from Miss O’Neil’s.”

            “Well I’m not going to try to catch them,” Don said.  “In fact, I’m going to take a nice long shower and turn in early tonight.”

            “Very good my son,” Master Splinter said absently as his show came back on.

            Taking the stairs two at a time, Don laid his new back brush across the sink and set the bottles of body wash on the rack inside the shower.  Stripping off his gear, he turned to grab a towel and noticed there weren’t any clean ones on the shelf.  With a sigh, Don made his way down to the laundry room.

            Mikey dragged himself into the lair, splatters of mud painting extensive portions of his body.  A group of Purple Dragon recruits hadn’t taken too well to getting spanked by the Turtles and had decided to throw mud balls at the brothers while retreating.

            This had prompted Leo to decide to follow them back to whoever was trying to turn them to a life of crime.  Along the way, Mikey’s mud slicked foot had slipped off a ladder rung and he’d fallen.  The resultant bump on his head had gotten him sent home.

            Trudging slowly up the stairs, Mikey made straight for the shower and immediately spotted the strange looking brush sitting on the sink.  Picking it up, he examined it and finally decided that Don had purchased some kind of new bathroom cleaning implement.

            Lifting the lid to the commode, Mikey decided to try it out.  Just then Don walked into the bathroom.

            “Hey Donny.  What is this, some new kind of toilet brush?” Mikey asked as he turned the brush toward the bowl.

            “No!” Don yelled and leaped at his brother, wrenching his precious new purchase from Mikey’s hands.  “It’s a back brush.”

            Mikey snorted.  “Fancy.  How is that better than the ones we already use?”

            “I was just about to try it out and see,” Don said.  “From the looks of things, you could benefit from this as well.”

            Don started the shower and twin streams of water cascaded from two overhead shower heads.  As the water warmed up in a custom stall that was large enough to accommodate all four of the brothers, Don smiled at Mikey and began to slowly help his brother remove his mud stained gear.

            By the time Don was finished, Mikey was starting to be really happy for the bump on his head.  Don stepped into the shower and pulled Mike in with him.  As the water began to rinse the mud off of Mikey, Don squirted body wash onto the brush, maneuvered so that he was behind his brother, and began scrubbing Mikey’s carapace.

            “Oh shell,” Mikey murmured when he felt the brush dip into the grooves between his scutes.  A tingling sensation shot through his body and his toes curled into the wet tiles.

            “See Mikey?  With this one it’s really easy to get into those places you normally can’t reach on your own,” Don explained.

            Mikey suddenly spun around and pressed into Donatello, pushing him against the shower wall.

            “It’s kinda cool I guess,” Mikey husked with his mouth near Don’s, “but I think I still prefer the personal touch.”


End file.
